Birth of a Warrior
by Pynrieg
Summary: Is there another hero out there? AU,


Birth of a Warrior Version 3.0

Author's Note: Yes, my dear readers, this is the third version of this story. I'm sure that none of you will remember the other two, but that isn't important. What is important is that I start this story...

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The jungle air hung low, fog coming slowly over the river. It isn't fair to call it fog, thought the solider sitting on the dock, it was the breath of the jungle.

The solider thought back of what took him to this place, how he volunteered, left his home, and came to Vietnam. Everything else was a blur, who he knew, what he learned... He was in the jungle now, and all that mattered was living to the next meal, or what would get him there.

The outpost on the river was never meant to be held by any force. It was merely meant as a link in the supply line, for the incoming boats. Only a small force defended it, perhaps twenty men strong. The Vietcong, however, also used the base. If no one was watching closely enough, supplies would go missing. Those supplies always came back, though, in the bodies of US army men. Sometimes the bodies would be in body bags, stacked on the small wooden barges, but every now and then the bodies would slowly sloat down the river, just under the surface of the water.

The solider watched on now, the body turned over slowly as it being nibbled by fish as it floated by. He wondered if the dead man had a history as well, left a wife behind, had kids, got drafted, what his life would of had in store for him, if he didn't get sent down river.

Ryan Creevey didn't have any idea of how long he watched the body. He realized he really had no way to tell how much time he spent doing anything, he had no idea what month, week, or day it was. Almost everything he did invloved either killing or waiting for the next time to kill. The latter was what he was doing now, waiting to kill. When night hit, some runners would try and collect some more supplies.

It was odd, sitting on the dock for Ryan. He knew he was a easy target for some asshole with a gun, but Ryan was lucky. Unnaturally so, it seemed. Whenever he guarded the warehouse, no Vietcong made it back with any more supplies. Whenever he was shot at, they missed. And whenever a boat got pulled over, he was the one who would hit a stash of whatever.

Not everything was like that for him, he always managed to get good food, or some beer from the passing swift boats. It was such a day, a passing swift boat had traded him some fresh honey mead for a decent meal for everyone on the boat. He never asked where they got it, you learn to never do that. He was sipping the golden drink has he watched the body float down the river.

He would be leaving the next day, he knew this deep in his bones. Something inside himself told him that, but that it wouldn't be death. He would be moving forward. He walked alone back to the barracks. He was always alone. Although himself was lucky, his "friends" weren't. He stopped getting close to people, or maybe they to him. No one spoke of it, it just kind of happened that way. He learned he was the last was left of his class, that his former friends had met tragic deaths. More often then not Ryan watched them die at his side.

He slept on the cot, dreaming. To the mind of the solider, they made no sense. Figures in black clothing and white masks had been running into a castle. They shot beams of light at each other, and there was a lot of running around. Everything else in his dream was misty.

Quite suddenly, he felt a pull coming from somewhere deep behind his naval. It pulled him back, and another direction he couldn't describe. He couldn't begin to describe it, since he felt a burning sensation filling his body, along with something cutting just below the flesh of his chest. Just as suddenly as the pain started, however brief it was, it ended. He lacked the feeling in most of his body. He thought he died in the night, and ended back in hell.

When the aching in his arm started, he knew this was not the case. In fact he ached all over, and his entire body felt heavy, but it started in his arm. The best word to describe what he was feeling at that moment would be crowded. It was odd for him to feel so, but it was the word he thought of when he tried to describe himself. He had not bothered to open his eyes, they were to heavy, but he shifted over in the cot.

"Headmaster, he moved, is that a good sign?" asked a female voice. He as shocked to hear it, not only female, but youngish, not to mention the Londoner sound.

"We will have to wait to see, Miss Granger... Now how did he lsoe his soul in the first place again?" Said a wise, grandfatherly voice.

_Misplaced souls_, Ryan thought, _that made no sense_. He paid no attention to the girl prattle on a tale, he slowly reached for where he kept his rifle. He found he couldn't reach the floor with his hands, he slowly moved his hand back, gladly bringing no attention to the small movement. He opened his eye that was away from the voices, and loked around. Everything was a awful white, only the kind you get in hospitals. Beds lined the two walls facing each other, all of them unoccupied it seemed.

"Then I should wait to call St Mungo's..." Ryan listened to the female voice. There was what looked like a strap to something under the bed, and he carefully reached over and pulled it. It was connected to some kind of camera, no his rifle as he was hoping.

He realized something was up, with all his gear missing. Instead, there was a camera. He had no idea of where he was, who he was with. It didn't sound like vietnamese he was hearing, but english. It made less sense then most of the war. So he did the only thing that made sense to him.

He slowly picked up the camera, careful not to attrach any attention.

"Albus, I think young Mr. Creevey is awake." Said an older female voice.

He wasn't surpised that someone saw his movement, but he answered the only way he thought he could, by jumping out of the bed he was in, while he said, with everyone else watching shocked, "Damn right I am..."

He took their picture, hoping the flash would at least blind them for a moment. He noted their odd apperance, but paid more attention to the door behind them. Instead of running through them to get to that door, he used a window.

He threw the camera at the group of odd people with every bit of stregnth he had in his arm. If it hit, Ryan didn't know.He kicked the window so it broke, and he crawled through it as fast as he could. The fall wasn't that great, it seemed maybe a bit over his own height. He landed running. With the sun to his back, he ran into a field. A large structure to his left and a forest to the right, he ran to his right.

He felt winded running for such a large distance. Maybe a click, just maybe more. Before he could reach the forest, he felt odd. The feeling that he got before an attack, so he ducked the moment the sensation hit him. Never wrong, a red light shot out the forest aimed at directly where he stood a moment before. Ryan rolled to what he felt the right way. The red shot again aimed at where he could he of gone. He found himself remembering many times like this, where every move he made seemed sheer luck, and if he made any other decision, he would be dead.

Before he fully realized what had happened, he was now in the forest and resting at the base of a tree, hiding from someone. He hoped the figure would overlook his hiding spot. _The heavy footfalls seemed too heavy to be human_, _but_ Ryan thought, _this is not the jungle._

_You're right, this isn't the jungle_, said another voice in his head. _No, you're not crazy, just talk with the headmaster. He'll know what happened to us._

_What the hell,_ Ryan thought,_ I never answered myself like that before._

_You're not crazy, there's just two of us here_ The voice in his head sounded off

_And how the hell did that happen?_ he thought directed to his other voice.

_Well, we were trying apperation,_ but the other voice stopped. _My name is Colin. I think you can see my memories, if you can find them... I kind of stumpled upon yours... I think..._

_What the hell,_ he thought, as he was hit not by stumpling upon memories in his head, but rather like them being thrown at him. His world shrank and each memory played like a movie. In no paticular order, he watched the life of Colin Creevey, muggle born wizard.

What seemed like sixteen years later,but actually more like a couple hours, his mind felt sluggish as he regained sight from outside his body. He now knew, without much doubt, exactly where he was. Hogwarts, School for Wizards; Hospital Ward. Whatever Colin was looking at, Ryan, too, saw.

"I think he's awake, or consicious, or whatever, Headmaster" He found himself saying.

"You can run quite well, Mr... well, let's stick to Ryan right now." Said the man he threw the camera at earlier.

_You can speak, Ryan..._ he heard from within his head.

"Thank you, I suppose," was the only thing he could think of saying.

"I'm going to have to research into what happened... This kind of thing might of never happened before. There's no need to tell you're story, Mr. Ryan, Colin has already done that. If you were to ask me right now, I'd say that two souls are inhabiting Mr. Colin's body, and maybe due to the spell, after Mr. Colin's apperation accident.

I think he lost his soul somehow, and attempting to bring it back, I might of brought yours as well."

"Well..." Ryan was at a lost of words, buyt then found Colin took control.

"What should we do until then, Headmaster?" Colin seemed passive.

"Well, I see no reason for you not to join class again." The headmaster said with an smile.

"Thank you headmaster..." The passive boy said for them both.

As they walked down the hall, Ryan thought to Colin,_ Creevey? You're a Creevey?_

_Uh, I guess, my father was Micheal Creevey_, but his thought was interupted

_Lil' Mike! But he was just a baby when I left... No, I give up trying to explain it to myself..._

_I can't believe it, I have a long dead relative in my head..._ Colin thought he thoght to himself when he heard the name.

_I'm not dead, well, at least I don't think I am... Let's jsut go to bed, we have nothing better to do..._ Thought Ryan at last

_Way ahead of you_, and Ryan realized that he had not been paying attention, and that Colin took them directly to their bed, where, it seemed, all other beds were already taken. Ryan didn't sleep, he just pondered about what he was going to do.

Colin woke up after the other boys in his year had. Ryan watched himself in the mirror as they got up. Certainly there were simularities between the two, so odd that Colin seemed to sense the feeling, and also looked into the mirror.

"What the fuck!" Colin couldn't help but yell.

_Shut up, _he thought over to the student. _Keep it down, what the hell's the matter?_

_It's me... You... us... Fuck, I don't know. Look..._ He said thought and pointed at the mirror. Ryan noticed nothing.

_I'm not me, I'm you, Holy flying fuck..._ Colin thought worridly

_So, what's your point? I think my bodies better anyway... It's true_ Ryan thoughtthe last part to himself.

_How are we going to explain this?_

_Eh..._ was all that Ryan could manage, and he really didn't care. He wasn't being shot at right now, so things were pretty good. From there on, he ignored the boy's mind, and walked into the common room.

He left the common room, and went to breakfest by himself. Although alone, no one paid him any attention as he entered the Great Hall, except Hagrid and Granger.

He knew why, the way he fled, it was so... Un-Colin like. Both watched him from their respective places as he sat down next to another boy in his year. He pretended nothing had happened, and let Colin's memories dictate what he would say. The didn't say much, as they were eating, but Ryan said the right things.

He let Colin lead the day through classes, but he would never let him have full control for the entire day. The mind was quite boring, although he found himself in memories of Colin's life, which was quite intresting, they got boring after a while.

The next class ended, and with it the end of the offical school day. Although Colin was looking forward to the rest of the day off, Ryan was annoyed. The common room was empty when they arrived, everyone out doing their thing. Colin, though, felt too tired to enjoy the rest of the day, and went to sleep, this time Ryan went with him.

During the night, waves of magic came rolling from the boy's dorms. Something strange was happening in the room Ryan Creevey occupied. He dreamt of fire and struggle, the end of the world and beginning of another, and it scared Ryan. It override the pain he was feeling, and he failed to even notice it. As the sun was just beginning to rise, Ryan awoke, alone.

_Colin..._ thought-called Ryan. There was no reply. There was nothing else in his head, except Ryan.

_Now this is going to be intresting_, thought Ryan, alone in his head,as he tried to decide what to do next.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, this is the part I ask you all to read and review, but screw that. I'm going to tell you all to... ... Do Something Else. Break molds. Lie, Cheat, Steal, Change the world. Make dents and scars. 


End file.
